


of Rooftops and Stargazing

by DragonMaster_Shi



Category: Space Boy (Webcomic)
Genre: Dorks in Love, F/M, Fluff, Stargazing, thats literally all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:20:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29310198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonMaster_Shi/pseuds/DragonMaster_Shi
Summary: I love these oblivious dorks, why aren't there more fics for this fandom 😭Did you come here for a summary? Too bad, losers.
Relationships: Amy/Oliver (Space Boy)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	of Rooftops and Stargazing

**Author's Note:**

> I finished the draft of this at like 12:00, and finished the final draft at 10:30 so it's a late-night thing ig
> 
> Also credits to the Space Boy discord for getting me to write this, I wouldn't have otherwise and I had a lot of fun

“Amy… Amyyy…” Oliver shakes Amy’s shoulders lightly, voice barely a whisper to match the silence of the world around them. Moonlight trickles through the skylight, the full moon casting long shadows that seem to have a mind of their own, twisting and swirling around him to form a sort of spotlight where Oliver is crouched. It also has the odd effect of making Oliver’s hair take on a sort of ethereal glow, like ones described in movies and books about the fae or creatures of the sort. In fact, with his black hoodie and pants, he looks almost like a Victorian-era vampire. “Amy, wake uppppp,” he whines pettily, stopping when he sees her almost-golden eyes settle on him in a failed attempt at a death stare. Oliver thinks she looks like a grumpy kitten. “Morning, sunshine,” he teases, thankful for the light levels hiding the flush tinting his cheeks as he says it. 

Amy groans, squinting her eyes hazily at the clock a little ways behind Oliver. “It’s three a.m, Oliver. Not morning,” she responds. 

“Shhhhhh,” Oliver warns, putting a finger to his lips. “I have a surprise for you.”

Amy would very much prefer to shove him away- or, alternatively, latch onto him and refuse to let go until they both fall asleep- but the stupid grin on Oliver’s face makes it hard to deny him. It’s pretty clear that it’s not something fancy or very pre-planned because his hair is messy, he’s wearing a hoodie, and his nails are still the uneven sky blue color they were when she (badly) painted them earlier in the day.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” she teases, propping herself up with one arm. 

“We have to be quiet, I think Dr. Kim and your parents are still talking downstairs,” he warns, his carefully quiet tone overcalculating the precariousness of the situation and going into the far depths of a daydream in which the threat is far greater than being sent back to bed. 

“So, espionage, eh?”

“Yep,” Oliver half-agrees, grabbing Amy’s hand as soon as she puts slippers on. The hand-holding is almost natural at this point, they do it so often, but the warm rush of serotonin that comes with it for both of them never lessens. Oliver, at times, is painfully aware of the feeling that burns with its intensity in his chest, but Amy is hardly aware of it, still only partially understanding the unfamiliar feeling. 

Oliver takes the lead as they tiptoe out into the hallway, the sound of Amy’s parents talking down the stairs coming out as a sleepy static. Without thinking, Amy allows herself to drift back to the times where she and Oliver would call and talk for hours on end, breaking the perpetual silence cast on Oliver’s limited world. This silence is different, though, a blanket of calm washing around them, like a weighted blanket on their shoulders. Oliver leads Amy past the bathroom and the closet, past the stairs, and finally to the paneled glass door leading out to the balcony. Moonlight pours through the warped glass, casting damp, dappled shadows on the hardwood, and Oliver slowly and silently pushes the door open, allowing Amy to separate her hand from his as she marvels at the spring air. 

She’s been outside at night, of course, but it’s just been so busy since late winter. Unlike winter, where the air seems to crackle like leaves under her feet, spring air at night is warm and damp, the taste of dew and new life almost tangible in the humidity. Amy is a bit to distracted by the uncanny sense of  _ life  _ in the air to notice Oliver and his mischievous grin as he hops onto the balcony railing, balancing precariously on the thin strip of maple wood, arms out for balance like a kid on a balancing beam. From there, he hops easily onto the sloped roof, foot slipping for an instant before he gains traction on the rubbery slates. 

“Come on Amy!” he chirps, making her jump and spin around to face him.

“W- wha? I can’t? How?!” she sputters incredulously.

Oliver laughs at her shocked expression, a sound that still hasn’t lost its novelty since the first time Amy heard it. “It’s easy, silly! Get up on the railing.” 

“what?!” 

His expression softens, morphing into a calm, affectionate smile. “Just… trust me, Amy.”

And she does. She trusts Oliver more than anyone else in the entire world, spare her parents and Jemmah. She teeters ominously on the railing for a split second before Oliver grabs her wrists and pulls her forwards into safety. 

“See?” he smiles, “told you that you could trust me,” he says cheekily, heaving her back up into a standing position. 

Amy’s breath catches in her throat and her heartbeat rises for just a second at the smile he gives her, stuttering in her reply of “y-yeah.” Oliver doesn’t seem to notice her reaction and points to a spot on the roof just out of sight.

“Come on, I’m gonna show you something cool,” he promises, and the excited sparkle in his eyes shows too much expression for it to be a dumb surprise. Amy  _ is  _ a bit reserved about the idea of walking along the moderately sloped rooftop, although Oliver assures her it’s fine. (And if neither of them is opposed to holding each other’s hands for ‘safety’ that’s fine too)

As soon as they get to the part of the roof Oliver gestured to, Amy understands why he chose it. It’s facing away from the lights of the buildings on her street, the full moon placed high in the sky, and surrounding it is a sprinkling of dazzlingly clear stars, twinkling in the way that they can only do on a planet like earth. 

“ _ wow,”  _ Amy breathes, stunned. The starlight reflects beautifully in her amber eyes, making it seem as if she holds the galaxy inside of her, but she can’t see that. Only Oliver can, and he tries his best not to stare. 

“That’s not even the best part,” Oliver says, letting go of Amy’s hand with a trailing reluctance that makes them both feel a dull ache at the momentary loss of contact. He sits down on the rough shingles, and Amy joins him, wondering what it is that is so special. This is special enough, though. She thinks she’d be happy sitting here for eternity if she had to. Her gaze wanders to the boy beside her and the wondrous gaze he still holds at the sight of the sky, despite his life being filled with stars from the time he was born. He gasps, and points to the sky, exclaiming “look!” Amy’s gaze darts back to the cold, glittering stars, but there’s nothing she can see.

“Wha…?”

“There!”

This time, Amy sees it. The quick trail of a shooting star streaks through the sky, quickly followed by another, and then two more. Amy’s soft gasps at each one don’t go unnoticed by Oliver, and soon he’s grinning widely, both because of the beautiful array of lights and at Amy’s reaction to them. He had been planning to finally confess, but somehow this seems ok as is. As much as he longs to kiss Amy and say “I love you” to someone for the first time in years, it seems like it’d be even worse to have even a  _ chance  _ of a dark connotation put on the memory of this event.  _ It’s great as is,  _ he decides internally, soaking in the cool breeze and sweet air. He feels Amy’s hand on his, and as they’re bracing themselves up on the slope it’s impossible to properly hold hands, but they almost instinctively half-intertwine them.  _ Now _ _ ,  _ Oliver thinks,  _ everything is perfect _ .

Slowly, the tiny gasps at each meteor morph into quieter noises and murmurs, and finally soft, even breathing. Oliver says down as well, just gazing in unmasked admiration at everything that is  _ Amy.  _

“I love you,” he murmurs, although she can’t hear him of course. The words are nice to say out loud, filling him with content peace. In this feeling, he’s able to close his eyes and fall asleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Extra:  
>  Oliver groans. His back is sore, his entire body is sprinkled with dew, and everything is chirping and humming and otherwise making noise obnoxiously loud. He opens one eye to find one arm wrapped around Amy’s shoulder protectively, the other one on pins and needles as he somehow pinned it under himself. “Wake up,” he grunts. “ ’s light out.”  
>  When they get downstairs, Amy's mom asks where the heck they were, as she couldn’t find them anywhere.   
>  “Roof,” is the best explanation she gets out of either of them.


End file.
